


The Sum of Our Parts

by Midnight_Ophelia



Series: The Way of Things [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Comfort Sex, Dom Caleb, Drinking to Cope, Friends With Benefits, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Ophelia/pseuds/Midnight_Ophelia
Summary: After the run-in with his nebulous past and introgation via party members, Molly wakes from a nightmare and finds unexpected comfort in Caleb.---Caleb pushes close, pinning Molly between him and the barrel with his leg in an unexpected display of dominance. “Tell me what you want me to do.”Molly leans forward to the shell of Caleb’s ear. “I want you to tie me up and fuck me so hard that I can't think or walk straight tomorrow,” he whispers, rubbing himself on Caleb’s thigh. “I want to chase away all the bad memories of that fucking bar with memories of you in me. ”He pulls away and grins at Caleb’s blushing cheeks and how blown wide his pupils are. Maybe this isn't as much of a one-sided indulgence as he thought it was.(Spoilers for episode 14)





	The Sum of Our Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Molly deserves all the great sex in the world after that backstory reveal.
> 
> Here's hoping that neither Liam or Taliesin come across this.

When Molly sleeps he dreams of dirt and darkness, unable to breathe from the weight of it all, and a shallow grave surrounded by trees beneath the light and shadows of the full moons. He can taste the earth on his tongue and smell it in the air, and hear the hooting of owls all around him.

It’s some time in the middle of the night when Molly forces himself awake with a start and finds himself covered in own his sweat and not the gravedirt that he feared.  He sits up and looks down at his shirt that sticks to his damp skin, running a shaking hand through the tangled curls of his hair, and reminds himself of where he is.

This is what he was afraid of when he'd gone to bed. He’d spent the evening spilling his past, as little of it there is, and now the ghosts that he can't remember have come nipping at his heels. He wishes that he’d never set foot in that cursed bar. 

Shivering from both the cooling sweat and the panic attack that is creeping up on him, Molly tosses off his blanket and stumbles out of bed. 

He needs a drink. Several drinks. Anything that can fill the empty hollowness that is echoing around in his skull. 

_ Empty...empty...empty… _

Molly silently moves down the stairs to the tavern, barefoot and without any of his usual flair, and finds it barren of any patrons. He’s not sure if he would rather have people there or not. Instead of fixating on the silence and the dark, Molly pads over to the bar itself and grabs a whole bottle of firewhiskey. He’ll pay for it in the morning, he reminds himself. He’s got the coin. 

Molly sits down at the counter and takes a sizable swig of the dark amber liquid. It burns his tongue and throat on the way down, but it washes the phantom taste of dirt away. 

He sits there for some time, drinking the alcohol and trying to steady his nerves, before he senses another presence. He turns in his seat and sees the familiar, somewhat hunched form of Caleb standing by the stairs. 

“You shouldn't sneak up on people, Widogast,” Molly says with a forced smile, gripping the neck of the bottle a bit too hard. “What brings you down here at this hour?”

He can see Caleb frowning even in the dark. “I could ask you the same thing, Mollymauk, but I can see that you're drinking.”

“Well spotted. Do you want some?” The firewhiskey sloshes against the sides of the bottle as he lifts it and holds it out towards Caleb. “There's plenty here for both of us.”

Caleb walks over to him and takes it from Molly’s still shaking fingers. He takes a swig and hands it back. “I actually wanted to check in on you, but you were not in your room. Are you well?”

Molly laughs, the sound verging on hysterics, and drinks deeply before he answers. “Not particularly. You know, I thought that I had moved on from all of this bullshit. I was happy, I had everything I needed, and then that Tabaxi had to go and pull the rug out from under my feet.”

“I am sorry, for my part.” 

“It's not your fault, it was going to happen eventually, I just...didn't want it to happen now.” Molly passes the bottle again and watches Caleb’s throat bob as he drinks. “For the record, I'm glad that everyone was accepting.”

Caleb looks at him with studious blue eyes. “That does not mean that you have to be comfortable with it. We should not have pushed you so much.”

“I know that, and I'll never be happier that you ended that conversation.” That Caleb had used his full name,  _ his name,  _ not Lucian or Nonagon, but  _ his  _ chosen name _ ,  _ means the world to him. “Seriously, thank-you, Caleb Widogast.”

It could be his eyes playing tricks on him, but he swears that Caleb blushes. 

“What do you need?” he asks abruptly, fidgeting with his tunic. “I am...familiar with that expression.”

“What expression?”

Caleb’s face is soft, tender in a way that has Molly looking away. “You had a bad dream. I get them myself. So I ask you, what do you need?”

It might be the alcohol driving his desires, but what Molly needs to do is to kiss him senseless. “A lot of things, but at least one of them I know you won't want to give.”

“What is it?” 

Molly’s tail slips up Caleb’s leg to touch his inner thigh, just for the briefest of moments. “Sleep with me? I could use the physical distraction.You don't have to agree to anything. I won't push you, but it would help.”

He thinks that Caleb will turn him down without a second thought. They don't exactly know each other all that well, and he’s aware that Caleb isn't exactly the biggest fan of touching, but it was worth asking. Despite his wants, Molly isn't about to force anyone into something they aren't comfortable with.

To his surprise, Caleb doesn’t immediately turn him down. “I take it you mean more than actual sleep? If that is the case, where would we do this?” 

Molly thinks for a moment, mostly to mask his astonishment, then looks at the doorway leading down a set of stairs.  “What about the cellar? If we're quick and quiet I don't think anyone would notice us. Not the most comfortable place for this sort of thing, but I’ve had worse.”

Caleb nods and takes a final drink. “Okay, Mollymauk. If this is what you need I will do it.”

“Seriously? I wasn't expecting that.” 

“You are not the only one full of surprises.” Caleb gives him a small smile. “I will meet you in the cellar. I need to grab something from the room.”

Molly has a few guesses on what Caleb’s running off to get. 

Foregoing any questions, he takes the firewhiskey with him down into the cellar and speculatively eyes the casks of ale, picturing himself leaning over one with Caleb moving behind him. The fantasy has him growing hard against his leggings almost immediately, and he sends a silent prayer gratitude to the Moonweaver for Caleb’s surprisingly gung-ho personality that lurks underneath all the layers of anxiety. 

Of all the possible outcomes to this night, this was not one of them. Molly perches on a cask, bringing one knee up to his chest, and eagerly waits for Caleb’s return. 

It's only a few minutes until he does, his coat draped over his arm and a vial of a liquid in his hand. “I thought that I could make this more comfortable for you.” 

Molly raises an eyebrow and hops off the wooden barrel and observes as Caleb lays the coat inside out over it. “That's very considerate of you.”

“Yes, well, I did not think that you wanted to have wooden splinters embedded in you.” Caleb hesitates then reaches out to trace the peacock feather on the side of Molly’s face. “I admire you, Mollymauk.”

Molly leans into the touch and releases a shuddering breath. He could listen to Caleb say his name forever.  “Why's that?”

“You could have done anything with yourself. You could have said fuck it and let your past get to you. Instead you try to be a good and happy person. I wish I could do the same.”

“You could. You said yourself that you believe in second starts. Take your own advice, love.” Molly grabs Caleb’s hand and brings it to his lips, pressing them to his knuckles. “And I wouldn't say that my past doesn't get to me. Clearly, it does. I just don't like it being dredged up.” 

“Then it will not be from me.” Caleb pushes close, pinning Molly between him and the barrel with his leg in an unexpected display of dominance. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Molly leans forward to the shell of Caleb’s ear. “I want you to tie me up and fuck me so hard that I can't think or walk straight tomorrow,” he whispers, rubbing himself on Caleb’s thigh. “I want to chase away all the bad memories of that fucking bar with memories of you in me. ”

He pulls away and grins at Caleb’s blushing cheeks and how blown wide his pupils are. Maybe this isn't as much of a one-sided indulgence as he thought it was.

Caleb clears his throat, reaches around Molly, and grabs the firewhiskey. He takes one last liberal swig and sets the bottle back down to pull him into a deep kiss. Molly melts into it, his fingers latching into ginger hair as he moans into Caleb’s mouth, hungry for the physical contact that will ground him to the now and fulfill this strange infatuation he has for the man that has become a part of his life.

When the kiss inevitably ends for breath, Molly’s hands scramble to touch skin, yanking Caleb’s tunic over his head to carelessly toss it away, leaving him in his undershirt, and going for the laces of his trousers. He gets as far as untying them and pulling out Caleb’s cock before he has him chest down and hips up over the cask, hands pulled behind his back by the wrists and Caleb rutting hard against his ass.

Molly laughs and pushes back against him, grinning at Caleb’s groan. “My, aren't we in a hurry.”

Caleb huffs out what might be a chuckle. It's hard to tell for how infrequently he shows a reaction to humor. “You did want to do this quickly,  _ ja _ ? There's no reason for us to get fully naked.”

“That's hardly fair. Maybe I want to see you naked. The rest of your body has to be as pretty as your cock.” 

There's a pause on Caleb’s end followed by the feeling of the rough fabric of a scarf being wrapped around his thin wrists, tight enough to restrict, but not enough to hurt. 

“You cannot get everything with flattery, Mollymauk,” Caleb replies. He releases them and tugs Molly’s leggings down to his thighs. 

Molly shivers. The air is chilly against his revealed skin, but Caleb’s presence is as warm as the fire he produces. “I disagree. It got me here with you, didn't it? I'd say its done well for me.”

He can practically hear Caleb’s eyes roll, and a hand lightly smacks against his ass. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Do you have a word preference?”

Caleb knows about safe words. Molly files that information away to ponder on when he’s alone and in need to get off. “Just go with the color system. Can't beat the classics.”

“Alright.” Caleb steps away for a moment to grab the vial off the barrel next to him, then touches oiled fingers against tight muscle. “Are you comfortable? The scarf is not too much?”

Molly moans into the coat and wiggles his hips, desperate for more. “ _ Yes  _ and _ no,  _ Caleb Widogast. If you don't-”

Caleb gets the answer he wants and cuts him off with the slow penetration of a single finger. “Quiet, Mollymauk.”

“You're asking a lot of me.” Molly attempts to send a glare over his shoulder. It's less effective than he’d like when his knees are threatening to give out. “You cruel, cruel man.”

Caleb has the audacity to actually smirk and remove the digit. “Then maybe we should stop now, since I am such a cruel man.”

“ _ Caleb _ …!”

“ _ Ja _ ?” Caleb trails his fingers feather-light down the seam leading to Molly’s cock and stops just short of actually touching it. “Do you want to apologize?” 

Molly lets out a low whine, close to a sob. “Yes, I'm sorry! Please!”

“Please, what?” Those infuriatingly clever fingers ghost up to the head, spreading out precome in lazy motions.“What do you want, Molly?”

It's not enough. Gods, it's not enough. “Fuck me.” 

Keeping the hand where it is, Caleb uses the other to press his finger halfway inside and crooks it. “Is this what you want?”

“More, more.” His voice sounds debauched even to his own ears. Caleb’s fingers, no matter how wonderful, are not nearly filling enough, especially not just one. 

“And this?” Caleb adds a second finger and begins to thrust them both in and out. They briefly brush against the bundle of nerves and, at Molly’s loud cry, stop. “Mind your voice.”

Molly wordlessly nods, shuddering where he's laying and rocking his hips into Caleb’s touch.

“Good.” Caleb starts again, rubbing at the spot. “More?”

Molly nods once more, his bound hands balled into fists. His hips stutter and shove back as hard as he can manage. “Please, more.”

Caleb’s motions increase in speed and force, adding a third and final finger. Molly presses his face into the coat to muffle his sounds as his hips try and match Caleb’s actions. He can already feel his orgasm building just from this alone. He forces it back with the remaining willpower he has. 

“Caleb, I'm close,” Molly gasps out in warning. It wouldn't be right to be the only one getting anything tonight. “You may want to do other things, darling.”

It's both a blessing and a curse when Caleb stops. His fingers pull out, leaving Molly feel unhappily empty until he feels Caleb’s cock replace them with a delicious stretch. He enters slow and presses deep, stealing a low keen from Molly as the blunt head skims past that sensitive spot inside. He clenches around him and tries to pull him deeper, rotating his hips against Caleb’s.

“Gods, Caleb.” He says his name as if it were sacred, back arching as Caleb begins to thrust and hits his prostate like an arrow to a bullseye. “Harder, harder.”

“Are you certain?” Caleb asks amongst the wet sounds of skin on skin. “I do not want to hurt you.”

Molly swears in Infernal, the harsh growls of the language partially muffled still by the coat. His arms are beginning to cramp, but he refuses to make mention. “That’s the point,” he says, switching to Common.

Caleb does as requested, nearly pulling out entirely and thrusting forward with a snap of his hips, grasping Molly’s for support. Molly gives up trying to match his motions and simply lets himself be fucked into as his orgasm builds again at the base of his cock with each hit. 

When he finally does come, his vision whitens and it's only Caleb keeping him from slipping down off the barrel as he twitches and shudders beneath him. It takes him a moment to realize that Caleb has stopped and slipped out of him. 

“No, no, keep going.” 

Caleb sighs and tenderly brushes sweaty bits of hair out of Molly’s face. “I know for a fact that it will hurt if I do.” 

He’s not wrong. “I don't mind. You haven't come yet.”

“I will be fine. You are the one that needed this.” Caleb undoes the scarf and lets Molly’s arms fall free. He gently massages them and the feeling starts to return. 

Molly lifts himself up and immediately starts to sink to the floor with Caleb’s aid. “Can I get you off somehow at least?”

Caleb’s beautiful face, ruddy with exertion, goes painfully soft as he smiles. “That is your choice, but I will not say no to you.”

Molly grins wide where he sits on his legs on the battered wooden floorboards. “I wanted you to come in me, but I think I can settle for you coming on me instead.”

Molly leads Caleb down to sit with him, wraps a hand around his still hard cock, and strokes it with expert deftness that has Caleb squirming. He takes the opportunity to watch the flutter of Caleb’s eyelashes and the slackness of his mouth, his own cock twitching again with interest when Caleb’s breathing grows more labored. 

Molly scoots between Caleb’s legs, and with a twist has him coming across his stomach and chest. He licks the come off his fingers and doesn't miss the way Caleb’s eyes widen as he witnesses it. 

“Give me a few and I can go again,” says Molly, scooping drying come off his chest and lapping it off his middle finger with the suggestive swirl of his tongue. 

Caleb groans and goes for his coat that is damp with Molly’s seed and sweat. He digs into a pocket and pulls out a rag. “Any other time and I would be happy to take you up on that offer, but I recall that we have a mission tomorrow. We should get sleep.”

Molly skin is still sensitive as Caleb begins to clean him off. “That's unfortunate, but does that mean that we’ll do this again in the future?”

“I would not object to that.” Caleb kisses Molly’s forehead. 

Molly sits stunned at the deliberate mimic of his own actions from the mines of Alfield. “Well, then. I propose a bath tomorrow after we're done re-killing wisps, and I can return tonight's favor. Very. Thoroughly.”

Caleb reaches for the bottle of firewhiskey and takes a long drink. “I, uh, cannot argue with that plan, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Good, Molly thinks. He doesn't know what exactly this relationship is going to turn into, but he’s just happy to have Caleb in any way.  
  



End file.
